Weeding out the dross

My New Year’s resolutions for 2002 include foregoing the pleasures of masturbation and smoking. So far so good, although I’m finding life without either vice incredibly difficult, not least because I don’t know what to do with my hands. Until recently I was an inveterate 20-a-day man… and I smoked like a chimney as well.

But it’s true – as I write this, the New Year is over a week old and I have not smoked a cigarette, drank anything stronger than tea or had sex since 2001. I haven’t smoked because the escalating price of cigarettes coupled with the long-held conviction that I almost certainly have emphysema mean that it’s finally time to knock fags on the head for once and for all. I haven’t drunk because there isn’t any point if I can’t smoke, and I haven’t had sex because women find me repulsive.

Of course, as you read this column, I could well be sharing a post coital tab with some overweight, menopausal, mother-of-six who was almost certainly a willowy, golden-haired young temptress when I made her acquaintance in the pub a few hours ago, only to let herself go – as is their wont – while I was sleeping it off. Obviously, I hope I’m not, but going on past experiences I wouldn’t be at all surprised if I am. After all, when it comes to keeping New Year’s resolutions I have grown so accustomed to abject failure that my ambition these days is simply to try and heed the advice of Samuel Beckett by failing a little better with the passing of each year.

Despite being a dogged devotee of the weed for over fifteen years, I’ve only seriously attempted to give up smoking twice in the past before folding like a deckchair after one week and two months respectively.

On both occasions I went cold turkey and failed dismally, so this time, in an attempt to kick the habit for good, I’ve brought in the heavy artillery. This time, I’ve enlisted the help of Nicorette gum.

Used to relieve withdrawal symptoms and reduce the cravings for nicotine which people get when they stop smoking, Nicorette gum comes in a variety of flavours, all of which taste identical – like ordinary gum that’s been chewed for by somebody else for several hours before being stuck under a table in Burger King.

There the similarities with masticated Wrigleys end, however, as Nicorette contains nicotine and costs considerably more per packet than cigarettes. What this means, in essence is that using it as an aid to giving up smoking is akin to weaning yourself off ecstasy or speed by developing a crippling cocaine habit instead.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, each box of Nicorette contains a patronising 23-page booklet containing dire warnings detailing the terrible things that will befall anyone foolish enough to chew the gum when they are pregnant, under 18 or still smoking.

This seems rather ridiculous considering that being (a) with child, (b) young or (c) addicted to cigarettes are probably the top three reasons most smokers want to quit in the first place.

Curiously, there is no mention whatsoever of the horrors that might befall anyone foolish enough to chew the gum while they are pregnant, under 18 and still smoking. Perhaps the nice people at Nicorette consider you beyond help at that stage.

The patronising booklet also provides detailed instructions on how exactly to chew the gum (summary: chew the gum then stick it under a table in Burger King), how much gum to chew (at over a ten quid a packet… lots) and how long you should use it for (ditto). It also lists the side effects users may suffer as a result of chewing the gum: a bitter taste, hiccups, a sore throat, headaches, nausea, mild indigestion, heartburn, palpitations, an irregular heartbeat, itching, a rash and/or swelling of the tongue. Lovely.

So anyway, you’re chewing your Nicorette gum, your food tastes better, you’ve got your sense of smell back and your girlfriend can’t get enough of your big swollen tongue. Indeed, apart from the bitter taste, the hiccups, the sore throat, the headaches, the nausea, the mild indigestion, the heartburn, the palpitations, the irregular heartbeat, the itching, and the rash you’ve never felt better. So what now?

“Telling friends, family and work colleagues that you have quit smoking and that you envisage a tough time ahead will encourage them to support you,” reveals the Nicorette handbook, showing a naivety bordering on the downright stupid.

“Are you still off them? Good man!” my father bawled supportively down the phone only the other day. “The next few months will be absolute hell but try and stick with it. It’ll get easier in time although I’m off them over 20 years and I still get cravings every now and again.” Gee, thanks pops.